


...And the Book of...

by GrumpyJenn



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Implied Sexual Content, did they or didn't they?, was it all a dream?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-15
Updated: 2015-02-15
Packaged: 2018-03-13 03:04:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3365357
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpyJenn/pseuds/GrumpyJenn





	...And the Book of...

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AnagramRMX](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnagramRMX/gifts), [justlook3](https://archiveofourown.org/users/justlook3/gifts), [luladannys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luladannys/gifts), [AerynB](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AerynB/gifts).



Jake put the book on the shelf and sat down.

Kind of gingerly, actually.

That had been a seriously hot story, and it wasn’t even explicit. It was definitely more erotica than pornography, and God knew that Jake had seen enough of both – in just about every medium – to tell the difference.

But was it warm in here all of a sudden?

 _Want something_ , Jake thought vaguely, _want… something._

When Cassandra came around the corner of the shelf, humming to herself as she shelved books, as though she were a little-el-librarian, some small part of Jake’s mind said _Ah!_ That _something. That some ONE._

And then he was lost.

“Jake?” Cassandra sounded concerned. “You okay?”

 _No_ , one part of Jake’s mind thought; _I’m not._  
 _oh yes_ , that small part – an outside part, he now realized – thought.  
 _I need I need I need…_  

 _I want_ … that external internal voice growled, and Jake saw his hand snake out and grab Cassandra by the wrist, yanking her into his lap.

She gave a surprised gasp and then his lips were on hers and _oh God, so sweet, I can’t I need I want_ …

When Cassandra let out a protesting little squeak, suddenly Jake was in charge of himself again and – _oh God, what have I done?_ – he tore his mouth away from hers, releasing her wrist and clenching the chair arms as hard as he could. “Cassie.” It was a raspy groan. “Cassie. Go.” He could have shoved her off his lap, but Jake was terrified that if he put his hands on her _anywhere_ , he wouldn’t be able to stop touching.

“But I…” The part of him that was still Jake and not just _need_ noted that Cassie looked both intrigued and a little apprehensive.

Then she licked her lips and that _need_ took over, leaving Jake just enough time to shake his head no before his hands were gripping her arms hard and he was kissing her.

And she was kissing him back.

 _No,_ Jake thought desperately _, I can’t, it ain’t right, no, Cassie, no,_ and it was only when she pulled away and stood, face stricken, that he realized he’d said it aloud.

Jake sat there, hard as a rock and gripping the chair arms and panting, and looked up at Cassandra.

She looked horrified and sad all at once, as though he had hit her, and Jake hated himself. He had no _right_ to treat her like this and he’d all but forced her to kiss him and… and this wasn’t right.

“I…” he began, but she interrupted.

“You don’t want me.” It was barely a whisper.

 _Oh, God_ , Jake thought, _of course I do, I have all along, but… but…_ “Not like this,” he heard himself say. “It ain’t right, there’s something wrong with me, I can’t stop myself, it’d be taking advantage, even ra—“

“Not if I’m willing,” Cassandra said, and climbed back into his lap.

 _Oh, God, Cass_ , Jake thought, and then it was all _sensation_. All slick flesh and warm wet mouths and _oh, so tight, wet, hot, I…_

_need need want needCassie, I…_

~~|~~

 

 _Hell of a dream,_ Jake thought foggily as he started awake, and he actually found himself blushing.

He hadn’t blushed over a dream in years.

He wouldn’t be able to look Cassandra in the face for _days_. But he’d have to, or her feelings would be hurt, and the last thing Jake wanted to do was hurt her.

 _a fleeting image of_  
 _her face all hurt_  
 _and sad…_  
 _…of him gripping her_  
 _upper arms hard_  
 _enough to bruise_  

“Jake?” Cassandra sounded concerned. “You okay?”

Looking up at the sound of her voice, he murmured that he was fine. She looked doubtful, but she gave him a brilliant smile.

“Looks like you had a nap,” she said cheerfully, and although his answering nod was cautious, he felt himself smiling in return.

“Guess so,” he said, stretching. As he did so, he saw her turn and pick up a book on the shelf.

She clucked disapprovingly and shook her head. “Why don’t you guys ever put these back where they belong?” It was clearly a rhetorical and teasing-nagging sort of question, so he didn’t answer. “Wow,” Cassie continued. “What a title. _A Treatise on the Sexual and Romantic Mores of the Byronic Hero in Popular Fiction and Art_.” She grinned at him. “You read it for the articles, I suppose?”

Jake choked a little, but managed what he desperately hoped was a professional expression and said coolly, “I’m an art historian, Cassandra, not a teenage boy.”

Cassandra looked instantly contrite. “I’m sorry,” she said softly. “I was just teasing. I…”

“It’s okay,” Jake said, and realized that it _was_. And hey, he could look her in the face and even have a little friendly banter with her, in spite of the dream the book had induced.

He did wish she would put the book down though, because what if she _read_ it and saw… Jake sighed with relief as she reached up to place it on a shelf above her head.

And he watched with growing unease as the fluttery little sleeve of her dress slid up the raised arm to her shoulder… because that looked like it might be the faintest shadow of a bruise in the shape of fingers…


End file.
